


Get a Life!

by Suzthesnooze



Category: Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-07-12 17:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzthesnooze/pseuds/Suzthesnooze
Summary: When Lydia told her best friend to "Get a Life", she never expected him to take it literally... Cartoonverse.





	1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

* * *

The Deetz household had been a bustle of activity since Lydia Deetz’s arrival only a few hours prior. The old victorian which overlooked the quaint town of Peaceful Pines from atop the highest hill in town had known little activity (natural or otherwise) for months in the girl’s absence. With the sun sinking behind it, the various Cadillacs and Mercedes at it’s front finally began to depart.

Both the house and the girl had been entirely overwhelmed and groaned.

“Thank you for the welcome home party, mother,” Lydia Deetz grit between her teeth, a final burst of effort helping to hoist a stack of plates abandoned by their guests onto the counter, “But you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble. I’m sure your artist friends had better things to do than welcome me back from school.”

“OUR artist friends, Lydia dear. Many of which curate very influential galleries, might I remind you. One of them may be your future employer.” tittered the ineffable Delia Deetz who herself was busied with tugging down various streamers and balloons. “Besides, you only come home for your second summer away at college once, you know.”

Lydia opened her mouth to rebuttal, but shut it again at the recognition that it’d do her little good. Her mother could and would find any excuse to invite her city friends out to the sticks, regardless of how anyone else felt about it.

“Now, be a dear and go see how your father and the girls are doing with the living room.”

“Yes mother.”

Lydia passed through the kitchen to the living room. Her father, Bertha and Prudence waded through a gaudy wasteland of party favors, paper plates, cups and decorations.

For a gaggle of social elites, thought Lydia, Delia’s artist friends were certainly a bunch of pigs. She smiled to herself, imagining the visual gag a friend of her’s might be pulling. If he were here to appreciate it, that is.

“You okay, Pumpkin?” Charles Deetz asked, still nursing his drink. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Just a little tired. Between packing, the drive home, and the party--”

“Say no more. I understand.” Charles glanced to the kitchen door, leaning conspiratorially to his daughter with a wink and a smile. “Delia’s friends.”

Lydia returned his smile, giving him a quick hug. “Let Bertha, Prudence and I clean this up, daddy. We haven't really had a chance to chat all afternoon.”

Charles raised his hands and walked to the entryway. “I'll get out of your hair, ladies. Call if you need anything.”

As Lydia went about helping her friends, she found both had gone unusually silent. The quiet could only be borne for a short time before Lydia straightened and turned to find her ex schoolmates looking rather smug. “Alright, you two. Let’s hear it.”

Bertha, always the more outspoken of the three, had grown into her gangly limbs and now towered both in stature and pride over her goth and red-headed friends. She cast Prudence a knowing smile, leaning over Lydia.

“Us? You’re the one who’s been sighing all forlorn for the entire party, Lydia.” she teased, clasping her hands dramatically near a pouting face. "Ho, hum."

“And the way you’ve been looking around,” Prudence giggled. Though she was still rather short and mousy, the young up and coming tech genius had gained a bit more confidence in adulthood, “like you’re hoping someone was here that isn't...”

Caught, but never one to crack under scrutiny (she’d kept one incredible secret after another for over a decade now), Lydia managed a huff of laughter and quirked her brow. “I’m lost, ladies. Exactly what are you two getting at?”

Unconvinced by Lydia’s casual flippancy, they stepped closer so Delia’s keen ear for gossip couldn’t suss them out.

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Is he from here or Sarah Lawrence?”

“Was it romantic?”

“How far have you two gotten?”

“Bertha!”

Lydia’s head could have spun, jerking back and forth as her friends closed in, their barrage growing more and more insistent. Cornered, she felt the old panic she’d become accustomed to tugging at her skirt. Lydia forced it down with a too-loud laugh, waving them off. “Girls, girls! Please, I appreciate your interest in my love life,” Lydia too glanced towards the doorway to ensure Delia didn’t overhear, “but there IS no he!”

Bertha and Prudence exchanged a glance.

“Don’t you think you two would have been the first to know if there were? I know we don’t talk much anymore, but still.”

This caught them and they exchanged a hesitant look.

“So then why have you been so quiet?” Prudence queried.

“It's nothing, really Pru." Her bright smile dimmed a bit. "I was just… wondering about Betty.” Lydia said, letting on more disappointment than she’d intended.

Bertha huffed, grabbing up another armful of trash and shuffling it into the rubbish bin.

“Some friend! She practically vanished off the face of the planet when we all graduated. Couldn’t even be bothered to come to her best friend’s welcome home party. I say who needs her?”

“I’m sure she’s just been busy.”

Beetlejuice and Lydia’s separation had been horrible, yet necessary. A year ago, when she had first left for Sarah Lawrence College, Lydia and her beloved poltergeist friend had (after much debate) agreed: there would be no summoning while she was at school and no convincing or conniving on his part to change her mind.

Beetlejuice hadn't taken it very well, of course. Lydia had convinced herself she would grow accustomed to spending less time with her best friend, but nothing could have been further from the truth. Beyond the sparse long weekend and holiday, this past year had been her first thoroughly without magic. No Neitherworld antics. No strange and unusual. No Beetlejuice.

But, Lydia had reasoned, normal people did this every day. This was what it meant to grow up. She couldn’t spend all of her time messing around or her life would never truly begin.

Of course she missed him terribly. Of course she wanted things to be like they had been when she was a kid.

But things change, whether or not she liked it.

Lately, things had been changing far more than she had expected they could in only a few short months. Especially when it came to how she thought about Beetlejuice.

Especially since the events of last New Years Eve...

“That girl’s always been wild, Lydia. But I’m sure she would have been here if she could.” Prudence offered gently. “I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough.”

“ I think so, too.” With the living room clean and Delia nearly done in the kitchen, Lydia gave her friends hugs, saw them out, and began up the steps.

“Lydia dear!” the sing-song of Delia’s voice made Lydia’s jaw ache. She'd forced a smile for far too long today.

“What is it, mother?”

“Don’t forget we have dinner reservations tonight! Your father and I booked your favorite restaurant.”

_If it’s in the mortal realm_ , Lydia thought, _then it isn’t._

“I know, thank you, mother. Just going to get unpacked before we go!”

Having momentarily sated the chipper beast, Lydia escaped up the lacquered staircase which ascended to her bedroom. When she finally reached it, alone for the first time in months, a heaving sigh of relief escaped her at last and Lydia sagged gratefully against the old wooden door. _Safe._

She’d been run ragged all semester long by her nosy roommate, her pretentious peers, her empty nested parents calling every day for updates, her seemingly endless class load... Even at home, the gauntlet continued. Quite the warm welcome indeed, surrounded by people twice her age asking about her life choices and her future and her career. Had anyone published her works yet? Has she applied for scholarships? What will she do with her degree? Had she found a nice boy from a good family at school? Had she met THEIR sons?

No, she hadn’t even noticed them, she thought bitterly, and she had no interest in their attentions if they had noticed her.

Up until very recently, Lydia had been quite assured in the fact that she never had and never would care if anyone noticed her in that way.

But with so much changing in her life, now, she wasn't so sure. Her thoughts drifted back to last New Year’s Eve, the lights and sounds of New Yuck City, laughter and stripes and the spontaneous kiss she had planted on a cold, scruffy cheek--

What if she did want someone to notice? What if she noticed someone? What then?

_Take it Easy, Lydia. Plenty of time to figure that out,_ Lydia assured herself. _One thing at a time. He probably doesn’t even remember..._

Her mind buzzed with anxiety, frayed nerves soothed just a bit as she changed out of her pristine and pressed blouse and skirt in lieu of something from her real wardrobe. Not the one Delia had sent with her to school. Lydia paired soft and well worn black leggings with a slouchy purple tunic. The fluffy material smelled like her favorite incense and the faint otherworldly sting of brimstone.

_The Neitherworld_ , she thought dreamily.

Cinching a silk scarf ‘round her waist, Lydia made quick work of drawing her curtains and arranging at the center of her room all she would require for a proper summoning. A night stand. An old gas lantern. And at last, she recalled the words. A thrilled shiver ran up her spine as she finally said what she’d been waiting to say since January,

**“Though I know I should be wary,”**

The old house shifted and shuddered around her, familiar yet seemingly burdened by the shift that occurred when the girl spoke the incantation.

**“Still I venture someplace scary.”**

That antique lantern sputtered into eerie life, casting shadows up to the ceiling which began a quick ascent into abysmal blackness.

**"Ghostly haunting I turn loose,"**

When at last the floor crawled back to reveal cobbled stone, the frames peeled away leaving only cracks and cobwebs, and the old wooden door which lay before her morphed, Lydia smiled. Finally, she thought, Home.

**"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!”**

Lydia straightened her tunic around her shoulders and gave the heavy door a solid push.

She stepped over the threshold. Her foot continued down and down, her eyes bugged wildly, and with a startled cry Lydia fell entirely through.

Disoriented, Lydia flailed and kicked as she plummeted downward from the door. All around her the Neitherworld's constant twilight spun and sailed past. Managing to flip herself over, she watched the plateaus and structures of the Neitherworld’s surface and the sickly yellow dunes below approaching her at breakneck speed. Frantic, desperate, she could only manage to shriek,

“BEETLE-- _OOF!”_

Gravity suddenly returned and Lydia felt a cold, solid pair of hands clasped around her waist. She was whipped skyward once more.

_**"SHE'S BAAACK!"** _

screeched a gravelly voice, followed by a peal of cackling laughter.

Her churning stomach was given not a moment to recover as she was whirled this way and that against the purple and orange sky like a rag doll. Her watering eyes creaked open and she caught sight of a familiar black and white striped man as he spun her in circles.

"Long time no see, Babes! Let me get a good look at'cha!"

"Bee--WHOA! _HEY!_ " She started, but cut off into a shriek as the wild-eyed ghoul tossed her up into the air and caught her once again. Lydia felt she might vomit.

"Did you get taller? No, no. Changed your hair? Hmm, it's on the tip of my tongue…"

Heart pounding against her ribs, she curled her fingers in a death grip at striped suit, eyes darting from the ghoul's manic smile to the very very distant ground below.

"Whoa! And they say _I’m_ clingy.” Beetlejuice snorted. “Don’t worry, Lyds, I won’t _let you down_!”

“Oh, you… ASS **_! ”_** Lydia released a hand that had balled into his jacket to swat at him, but quickly returned her frantic grip when she felt herself slipping. “You scared me half to death!”

“Just HALF way? Damn. Must be losing my touch.” Beetlejuice snorted.

"Beej. _Down._ **Now."**

Despite his smug grin, the ghost complied, beginning a slow descent towards the ground.

“Aw, come on Lyds. Don't be a bad sport. What's a surprise party without a little Surprise?”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” She sputtered, but her smile betrayed her. He really hadn’t.

Some part of her had perhaps expected that he, just like everything else, had changed in some drastic way. That Beetlejuice would have become distant from her like Bertha and Prudence or older like her overbearing parents. Or worse that their last meeting would have changed the enthusiasm with which he greeted her.

But not at all. Not her Beetlejuice. His wiry blond hair never got longer or shorter. His purplish skin was never marked by time. His suit was still as filthy as it had always been. He was her same old wise-cracking, disgusting, swindling ghost with the most. And he was still the only soul, living or dead, who understood the real Lydia Deetz.

"Change?! Me!? NEVER!" So when he smiled like a fox caught in the hen house, Lydia couldn’t find it in herself to be even close to mad. "Still got the same underwear on as when you left and everything."

“Gross!" she crinkled up her nose, giving his own a playful tap. "Do me a favor, BJ. The next time you want to surprise me, just get some party poppers and streamers, okay?”

Before she knew it, they were back on solid ground at the Roadhouse door. Beetlejuice held her in his arms, blinking dully.

"...Beej?"

"Right, right! DING! Ground floor." he sputtered, helping her down to her feet. "Hey, you got it, Babes. No more surprises. Whatever you say.”

Beetlejuice stepped cordially around her and threw the front doors open wide, revealing a darkened living room which suddenly burst into life the moment she stepped foot inside. Confetti flew, streamers danced overhead, a torn and hastily painted banner which read ‘WELCOME HOME LYDIA’ dropped from the ceiling and she was greeted by a wild cacophony of music and voices shrieking in unison,

_**“SURPRISE!”** _

Lydia couldn’t help it. Still light headed with the adrenaline of the fall, her face lit up into a smile and she burst into joyful laughter. It was her first genuine laugh in months.

Racing in, she scanned each friendly face her eyes fell across. Jacques, Ginger, the Monster, and Prince Vince were all in attendance. She threw her arms first around Jacques Lalean the French skeleton who happily returned the hug.

“Mon petite! It has been too long. Oh la la! Quite the lady you have become!” He pressed his skeletal teeth to her knuckles.

Lydia ignored the scoff of Beetlejuice from behind her.

“I missed you too, Jacques. And thank you.”

Lydia suddenly felt the touch of prickly legs and tiny tap shoes on her shoulder. Ginger the Spider threw her arms around Lydia’s neck and sobbed.

“Ii-it’s so good to have you baa-haa-haack!” Ginger sniffled, nuzzling against her cheek.

“Ginger!” Lydia soothed, “don’t cry! It’s only been a few months.”

The little spider continued through her hysterical sniffling.

“He-he’s been just AWFUL, honey!” Her eyes suddenly narrowed in on the offending poltergeist. “I thought his DEPRESSION was bad, but then he went an’ turned it into AGGRESSION--”

“HEY, kids, ain’t this great?” Interjected BJ, who quickly muscled his way in between the spider and skeleton. “The whole gang back together again, happy as clams, bygones bein’ bygones! _Ain’t that right,_ you two?”

His roommates nodded hesitantly, flinching as he placed clawed hands on either of their shoulders.

“Beetlejuice,” Lydia warned, hands holstering at either hip. “Have you been tormenting everyone worse than usual?”

“No!”

_**”YES!”** _

He was out shouted by everyone else in the room.

Freeing his room mates, Beetlejuice lifted his red-tipped hands with a defensive scoff. “So I’ve been waking up on the wrong side of the grave! But tormenting’s my GAME, Lyds! I HAD to step up, keep everybody on their toes, or they’d all have just moped around missing ya! Bunch’a gloomy losers, lemme tell ya--”

“Moi?! Mope!?” Jacques blustered, straightening. “It is YOU, Beatlejoose, who ‘ave been moping!” “

Have not!”

_“Enough!”_ Lydia gasped, rolling her eyes. She cast the silenced ghost a smile. “Take it easy on them, Beej. We’ve all had enough trouble for one semester. Behave tonight? For me?”

Grumbling, _“sure, sure,”_ he drifted up to the ceiling to pout.

It wasn’t a surprise to hear he’d made the afterlives of his neighbors unbearable. After all, he had shown incredible restraint in not coming to interrupt her college experience. Far more than she suspected was natural for the chaotic ghost.

It must have taken every ounce of discipline he had not to try and tempt her or cheat their agreement. No doubt, his volatile habits needed to be redirected and unfortunately he had many victims nearby to use for just that. But knowing he’d been so miserable, as lonely and bitter as she’d been all these months, blackened her heart with gloomy clouds and (strangely) sent a tickle of excitement up her spine.

He really missed me all that much?

“All that matters, dear Lydia, is that you are returned to us at last.” Speaking of gloomy clouds, Prince Vince placed a hand upon her shoulder and even managed a smile. “We have all missed you terribly, in our own ways.”

“Thanks, Vince. Maybe I can give everyone a break while i’m home.”

“If any one of us could manage such a thing it would be YOU, sweet Lydia. Your influence on Beetlejuice has always been rather... undeniable. Moreso, recently.”

Lydia nearly asked what he meant by that, but her thought was interrupted by a booming southern twang.

“What’re we standin’ round fer!?” shouted the Monster Across the Street. “This here filly’s got PRESENTS to open!”

Before she could protest further, Lydia was swept up by her friends and hefted onto the couch. She took a seat and was presented with various gifts. Ginger had spun her a brand new tunic, having noticed she’d outgrown the old one. Jacques had given her a set of hair sticks topped with tiny wooden skulls which she quickly stuck into her hair wrap. The Monster had given her a box full of horseshoes. ‘They’re good luck. Figured it’d help while yer off learnin’ with missus Sarah Lawrence.’ he’d croaked, holding back tears. Prince Vince had given her a bracelet with delicate black rose charms strung along it.

All the while, Beetlejuice lingered near the ceiling to oversee the whole affair. Lydia wasn’t able to break away from the adoration and the questions her friends bombarded her with one right after another:

_“Do you like your campus, mon petite? ‘Ow are the exercise facilities? I hear some schools have piranha pools to encourage the swimmers!”_

_“Taken any dance lessons honey? Anybody have more legs than me?"_

_"Has it been horrible? Soul crushing? Utterly hopeless?”_

_“I saw an episode of Funniest Home Fatalities about them college campus types--”_

The chatter eventually died down and everyone began to retire to their respective rooms and houses across the street. When she was at last alone, almost, Lydia glanced up to where Beetlejuice had been floating near the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

“What?"

" _What,_ what?"

“You've been quiet all night, BJ." Lydia crossed her arms.

"Have not."

"You have so! What has you tongue tied?” she stopped, eyebrows drawn seriously, though her smile betrayed her fondness. “Don’t you _dare._ ”

She turned to find him in the process of untangling his tongue.

**_“...thpoil thport.”_ **Beetlejuice reeled his tongue back in like a spool of measuring tape.

"I can't make jokes, I can’t torment the neighbors, I can't haunt your parents, I can’t visit you at school--" he snapped a hand over his mouth, casting wild yellow eyes Lydia’s direction. Oops.

Lydia’s gaze bore into the ghoul and he shrunk in on himself tighter and tighter.

“Beej, we _talked_ about this...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, hands clasped between his knees.

"I didn’t want to send you away. I just have so much riding on school right now. It isn’t like Ms. Shannon’s, I can’t just skip class to go off on adventures. If there were a way--”

"Babes! Come on, enough!" he sputtered, his laughter strained. “I know, I know. I get it…”

Lydia watched the poltergeist squirm with discomfort. Her eyebrows lifted skeptically. “You do?”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right? Knowin' stuff… gettin’ stuff.”

Friends. Lydia could have sworn her heart simultaneously burst and shriveled. He still considered them best friends… she did, too, of course. Nothing could ever change that. But a part of her couldn’t help but wonder...

“I believe you.” Lydia assured.

After a long moment, the pair perfectly content to sit shoulder to shoulder on the old couch, Lydia spoke up again.

“So. Summer break...”

“Summer! Right, summer.” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, digging through his pocket. “Speakin’ a that, I forgot. I got’cha little somethin’.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Beej.”

“You really think i’m gonna let those goons show me up with their supporting-cast gifts? No way, Lyds. I’m the _only_ BEST FRIEND around here!”

He pressed a small, familiar shape into her palm and drew his gnarled fingers away to reveal a small golden key.

“Doomie’s key?” Lydia gasped, her hands shooting to cover her mouth. “ _Doomie!_ I forgot to say hello to Doomie!”

Hopping the coffin table in a flash, Lydia dashed to the garage to see her favorite little dragster. The lights came on and Doomie’s horn blared, a smile spread wide across his fender at seeing his mother.

“Hey, you!” Lydia cried, racing forward to hug the little yellow car’s hull as best as she was able. He honked fondly, shifting on his suspension to lean into her embrace. To her surprise, his back seat and trunk were packed to the brim, strapped haphazardly with gear, as though he were ready for a trip.

“He sure _roped_ you into this one, didn't he?” Lydia asked, to which the little car only revved shyly. “What are you two up to?”

Beetlejuice popped out from under Doomie’s hood. “It’s your present!” He croaked, hopping out to motion wide. Lydia stepped back to give the showman room.

“Presssenting, your all expense paid vacation to any place in the Neitherworld you could ever wanna go! A tour by YOUR’S TRULY, transportation provided by the one and only Dragster of Doom!”

He whipped an aged map out from behind his lapel, letting it unfurl for Lydia’s astonished view.

“I’ve got all these places we’ve never been marked down. It’s gonna be a blast! Think of it, Babes! Just you, me and Doomie on a daring whirlwind adventure to parts unknown! The biggest, baddest Scummer Vacation Road Bash imaginable… uh… Redux.”

“Hmm. Will it be perilous?” Lydia thrilled, grabbing the map to examine more closely. “Deadly? Fraught with misadventure?” she asked with growing excitement.

“When is it ever not?”

Lydia beamed.

“Just like old times?”

“You better believe it, Baby! There's NOTHING standing between you, me, and a whole summer of fun!"

Without missing a beat, Lydia leapt at her best friend to hug him tight around the neck. The ghoul let loose a hysterical cackle, his hands shot to grip about her waist and swing the living girl around. Lydia laughed, a lovely sound, as Beetlejuice lifted her off the ground into a whirl. Doomie’s radio tuned into a lively latin beat.

They’d always been a perfect team in everything they did and dancing was no exception. She had never asked how, but Beetlejuice seemed to have a rather extensive knowledge when it came to different forms of dance. Maybe he had picked it up over the centuries. Or perhaps he had been an avid dancer in life.

Lydia herself had become quite adept, even when her feet inevitably left the ground as he danced them up into the air. Careful to match her lead’s enthusiastic mid-air steps, Lydia caught his goofy smile before he could straighten it.

“What’s that smile for, grumpy? I thought you said you woke up on the wrong side of the grave!” Lydia gave a startled shout as Beetlejuice suddenly dipped her.

“There’s no right side of MY grave, Lyds! Can’t a guy just be happy to see his gi--”

He cut himself off, lifting her back up with a vaguely inaudible gruff. Lydia tried to pry, but Beetlejuice was suddenly whirling them faster and faster, higher off the ground to a rapidly increasing beat.

She felt heavy, light headed, her mind gone dizzy.

“Beej--!”

Lydia let her head hang back as they twirled. She suddenly felt nauseous.

_“Slow down--!”_

All at once, they stopped spinning. Beetlejuice’s hands had tensed on her sides considerably. It could have been by accident or just a trick of her still dizzy senses, but she could have sworn they had drifted down to the cradle of her hips. Hadn’t they been at her waist before?

Her arms drew tighter around his shoulders as she blearily lifted her head. When her eyes popped open and the world stopped whirling by, she found her nose brushing against his, felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared into a wild golden gaze--

_“Lyyyydiaa!”_ echoed the sing-song voice of Delia Deetz from Beyond. The music came to a screeching halt and within seconds Lydia was on the ground, feet away from the hovering Beetlejuice. _“We’re leaving for dinner in just a few minutes darling!”_

“Dinner!” Lydia gasped, breathless. “I completely forgot!”

She scurried down from his grasp and Beetlejuice pursued, sounding somewhat desperate.

“But… but Lyds! Don’t you wanna celebrate? And, I mean, we’ve got plans to make and catchin’ up to do, and-- and--” he floundered, watching her dart back and forth to collect her things.

“Sorry Beej, but I promised my parents I'd have dinner with them tonight.” Lydia readied herself to go, but caught the downtrodden look on his face. “I have to tell them about my upcoming camping trip with Betty. We’ll spend the whole summer together and we can catch up then, okay?”

“Yeah?” Beetlejuice perked up a bit. “Promise?”

“Promise! Wanna shake on it?” Lydia queried, to which the ghoul brightened to his usual manic glee. She extended a hand to shake and he took it, suddenly vibrating the both of them until they broke off into a fit of laughter. It quieted quickly though, as their joined hands lingered.

“Lydia!” called Delia again, and Lydia could hear the vague sound of footsteps on her stairway.

“I'm coming, mother!” She shouted, her tone on the verge of frustration. Lydia waved goodbye.

“Bye, Beej. Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!”

In a flash and a whirl she was gone, leaving the man and his car alone. Beetlejuice waved glumly to empty space, paused a moment, before a breath he’d been holding came out of his lungs with a guttural burst.

“H _oly fuck._ Undead god damn mother’a christ--” he wheezed, bracing himself against Doomie’s hull. The little car honked with concern for his father. “Take it easy, Juice. Just calm down. Cool off. _Chill out!”_

A bucket of icy water appeared over him and he frantically dumped it over himself. After a beat, the dripping ghost tensed up and examined himself. Wait a minute.

“Blarg! _CLEAN water?!_ Doomie, i’m really losin’ it. Help me out! HELP ME--"

The little car blared his horn and blasted his hysterical owner with a wash of oil.

"...thanks, pal."

The little car honked in sympathy, but cringed as his father proceeded to smear himself in the grime.

“Don't think it was too much? Too obvious?” he asked, floating in anxious circles. “Was the music too much? No, no not enough… but I thought maybe, y’know, with the mood and the dancing and all…”

The car’s engine sputtered, but he was interrupted again.

“Flowers! FUCK, I'm an _idiot!_ I should’a gotten some dead roses! Lydia loves those... No, actually, scratch the roses. I’ll SAVE that for later, when we’re on the trip. Think that’s a good idea, Doomeroo?”

Doomie barely got a beep out.

“Ah, what the hell do you know?”

Beetlejuice floated to his living room. Ginger lowered from her corner on the ceiling, eyebrow quirked skeptically.

“So?”

“I uh… took a rain check.”

“Zat would explain ze dripping all over the floor...” Jacques muttered as he entered from the kitchen.

“I don’t need to hear it from YOU, bone breath. You weren't exactly wing man of the year back there! Calling me out for a few little pranks like that. I should turn you into bone meal!" He sneered. "Didn't matter anyway. The timing was off…”

“Ya mean ya chickened out.” Ginger muttered, returning to her web. “Figures.”

“HEY! I did NOT chicken out!” he found himself covered in feathers, sporting a crooked beak.

The gloomy chicken-man groaned, dropping onto the sofa like a sack of potatoes.

The past few months without his best friend around had made the ghoul undeniably glum, it was true. His only source of entertainment had been the misfortune of his friends and neighbors which, even though he relished in the mayhem, got rather old after the hundredth or so time he’d managed to pull one over on a gullible skeleton or a dim witted little spider. Doubly old after his second pummeling at the hands of the Monster Across the Street.

But boredom and the occasional well deserved ass-kicking had been far from the worst to haunt Beetlejuice in Lydia’s absence.

Her blossom into adulthood had not escaped his notice, of course. Despite his state of being, Beetlejuice was still only a man. And not a man who gave two shits about propriety in any sense. He and Lydia were best friends and he had never expected anyone, living or dead, to understand the why or how. There had never been a caveat, fine-print, anything left unspoken about the nature of their relationship… There had never been anything to tell.

That was, until last New Years Eve.

With her parents out to a party, Beetlejuice had whisked her away to New Yuck City for her first Neitherworld celebration as an adult. Ever the irresponsible chaperon, Beetlejuice had gotten them a couple of drinks, thinking nothing of it. How was he supposed to know they had been a little on the stiff side?

As the aptly named and disgustingly anatomical New Year Balls dropped _“Ugh. I see why you never brought me here as a kid, Beetlejuice.”_ The city of ghoulish monsters all around them had erupted into celebration at the commencement of the New Year. Lights burst, sounds roared, he’d been looking up when warmth suddenly flowed across his rough cheek. Lydia had stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him. Just a peck, chaste and brief, fueled no doubt by the Otherwordly spirits she’d consumed that night. There was no other explanation for why his best friend might kiss him to ring in the new year...

But the memory of that warmth on his face, Lydia’s warmth, had settled permanently into his long-dead flesh and haunted him every day and night since her departure last Spring.

“Would it not be easier to simply confess your feelings to her?”

“Are you CRAZY, bonehead?!” Beetlejuice snapped, nearly tipping the couch. “I can’t just… TELL her!”

“Why not?” Jacques and Ginger asked.

“WHY NOT!? What if she hates me? What if it's all in my head?” Too anxious to sit any longer, the ghoul drifted to his boots. “We haven’t even SEEN each other since… y’know.” he groused.

Lydia hadn’t even mentioned the kiss. What if the singular greatest moment in his afterlife and perhaps even life was little more than a distant, drunken memory to Lydia? What if he brought it up and she was disgusted? Betrayed? Never wanted to see his miserable face again? How many friendships ended in kisses, he wondered.

“But Beatlejoose, what if she feels the same way and waits tres patiently for you to initiate?”

Beetlejuice had not considered that. He drummed his fingers against his bicep in thought. He gruffed after a moment, shaking his head like a wet dog. “Nope. Nuh uh. _No._ I got a plan. I’m sticking to the plan!”

“Plan? Please, you ain’t never had a plan go right in ya whole Afta’life--!” To Ginger’s dismay, she found herself magicked into her own web and entangled until she could do little more than mumble and squirm.

“I’ll find out on the trip! See if she--… I mean, how she…”

“But what will you say, mon ami? If the words do not find you now, ‘ow do you expect to find them alone with Miz Lydia?”

“Then i’ll just--” Beetlejuice floundered within himself until eventually frustration won out and he snapped. “Would you get off’a my BACK, Bonehead!? Yeesh! What the hell are you, my MOTHER?”

The skeleton raised his arms in surrender as the explosive ghoul marched up to him, hand aglow with crackling magic.

“I’ll know what to say… and even if I don’t, it's not like i’m pressed for time! I've got ETERNITY to figure it out! And all summer to confess... Until then, nothing has to change. I can just--”

“Bottle it up until ze inevitable explosion?”

“Now you’re getting it!” Seemingly pleased with himself, Beetlejuice started back towards his dwellings. “It’s gonna be perfect. Lyds is probably telling her parents about the trip right now. Then she’ll be right back.”

He drifted down the hall, passing up a cracked picture of himself and a much younger Lydia. He stopped, far from the sight of his roommates, and grinned.

“You’re excited for the trip, ain’tcha kid? Course you are! You promised...”

Lydia’s portrait smiled back.

“You’ve never lied to me before. I'm just bein' paranoid... We even shook on it!” He moved to pass towards his room, but something seemed to strike him and he drifted down in thought until his boots hit the floor.

“Course, it… couldn’t HURT if I just pop in and see how the folks respond to the news about the trip. Right?”

He looked over his shoulder for confirmation from the framed image. He felt willpower pipe up somewhere deep inside his rotted brain.

“I am _not_ breaking any promises! School’s out. The deal’s OFF! I can haunt Peaceful Pines any time I want! Besides, I’m not gonna cause TROUBLE or nothing. Just gonna listen in, y’know? Make sure everything goes okay with her folks...”

Lydia only smiled knowingly.

“Just a QUICK peek. In and out. She won't even notice i'm there.” Beetlejuice vanished with a flash, a tin can and an eyeball.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

The evening rolled by and Lydia still hadn’t returned from dinner.  _ Strange _ , thought Beetlejuice. Knowing her yutz parents, they had taken her to one of the four restaurants in Peaceful Pines and declared it ‘her favorite’. Just as they had for every birthday for as far back as he could remember. He floated in slow, anxious circles around her bedposts, all the while watched by Percy the cat.

Beetlejuice had years ago been given permission by Lydia to haunt her family’s home as he pleased. The witchy teen had dug up an old tome which instructed her on opening a permanent portal. It had been her anniversary gift for him and all he had gotten her was a crummy sandworm leather journal. While going directly to Lydia still required a proper summoning, there was no longer a boundary at her bedroom mirror. She’d given him some measure of freedom and for a creature like him, it was priceless. 

It had been part of his reasoning for upholding (by no small force of will) their _ no-college-contact _ agreement. She had granted him freedom. It was only fair that he do the same for her.

At what point exactly Beetlejuice had started caring about fairness and for what reason, even the old ghoul wasn’t sure.

Beetlejuice had started towards the staircase, intent on calming his nerves by setting up some nastiness for when Chuckie inevitably collapsed into his recliner, but the front door stopped him cold as Delia burst through the door, jabbering, with Charles at her heels. Lydia trailed along behind.

“Oh, Lydia, honestly. You can’t spend all Summer cooped up in this old house! It’s not healthy!”

“What about my plans with Betty?” Lydia called, chasing Delia into the kitchen. “I can’t just blow her off.”

Beetlejuice’s impish ears burned. Vanishing in a puff, he manifested as a clock upon the wall. 

“Well I couldn’t imagine why NOT!” Delia huffed, shuffling a bag of takeaway into the fridge. “As I recall, she hasn’t been around at all since you graduated. Hardly a friend, if you ask me.”

_ No one did, _ thought Beetlejuice, his lip curled in a sneer.

“Besides,” Delia continued, “this was supposed to be our gift to you! For doing such a good job at school. You deserve a getaway.”

“It’s not that I’m ungrateful,” Lydia started carefully, “it’s just that… well… you know how I feel about the  _ Brewsters. _ ”

The striped clock suddenly changed as Beetlejuice appeared in the reflection of Lydia’s necklace. 

_ “Psst, babes! What the hell’s going on?” _ he whispered, but she didn’t seem to notice him. _"What about the Brewsters?"_

“Petty schoolyard rivalries? Really, Lydia. They’re good people!”

Lydia braced herself on the counter, leaning across.

“Are you serious?” she asked, incredulous. "Claire Brewster was and still is a monster in heels! Her parents aren't much better. YOU said her mom didn't have enough taste to tell wine from pi--"

"Lydia!" Delia gasped, clutching at what remained of her _'sensibilities'._

Charles Deetz sputtered behind her, but when Delia snapped her gaze to him he scarcely managed to hide his laugh with a cough.

“You’ll have to learn to get along with people you dislike, Lydia. I did! The Brewsters, for all their... eccentricities...”

_ Egocentrism, _ Beetlejuice scoffed. 

“ --have been _ **courteous**_ enough to invite us to the opening festival of their resort. Your father worked so hard getting them that land for development. It’ll be such _FUN_ , Lydia! Charles, tell her what fun it would be.”

“They’ll be doing fireworks over the new boardwalk. There’s fishing and bird watching and hiking and swimming... I hear there’ll be a carnival."

Delia's face remained bright, while Lydia was thoroughly unchanged. Since when had any of those things been of the slightest interest to her?

"And all that aside, the lake really is beautiful, Pumpkin. Despite all the new development.”

Lydia could read her father like a book. They’d clearly all but butchered some small lake town for profit. As though the experience could sound any more horrific. She wondered, briefly, if this were all a nightmare. Melodramatic, perhaps, but her nightmares often involved being locked in a small space with Claire Brewster.

“I’ll bet you could get lots of pictures for next semester.”

“See? All settled!” Lydia hadn’t a moment further to protest before her stepmother kiss-kissed both of her cheeks and started off towards the stairs. “I’m _so_ glad we worked that out. I hate when we argue."

Delia fluttered around her stock-still step-daughter, clearly oblivious to the deep, hopeless glower that had settled across her face. "Aren’t you excited, Lydia dear? We might even get some color back in that face! I’m going to wash my makeup off. Nighty night you two!”

Glaring daggers after the Summer Spectacular Saboteur, Beetlejuice felt Lydia’s chest rise and fall with a defeated sigh.

Somebody had to do something... HE had to do something! Say, maybe Delia’s night cream could use a little poison oak. Or he could slip snakes in her slippers! Or he could fill her pillowcase with spiders. The BIG, fanged, _hairy_ kind. He wasn’t sure how that would stop her plot to keep he and Lyds apart, but, hey, it couldn’t possibly  _ hurt _ \--

“You okay, Pumpkin?”

Beetlejuice’s frothing rage was tempered by Charles’ speaking up. Chicken-livered as the old chuck-wagon could be, he was the more observant of Lydia’s folks. All the jokes and schemes and money laundering aside, Beetlejuice had a passing respect for the old man. So he quieted down inside Lydia’s pendant to hear him out. Maybe Delia could be spared, reasoned the ghoul. If Old Chuckie pulled through, Beetlejuice swore a silent oath he’d leave the old guy alone for at least a few months.

“I really do appreciate the invitation… and I’m sure the lake would be… _interesting...”_

“But?” 

Lydia couldn’t seem to find the words and only sighed. She slumped into a chair at the kitchen counter. From his place leaning against the stove, Charles cast his daughter a worried look.

“You’re getting older… I know that, Pumpkin. And even if your mother doesn’t act like it, she knows, too. And we’re both so _proud_ of you. Going off on your own to school, surrounded by strangers, working like a dog… _I know_ that can be stressful. Heck, that’s why I got us out of New York to begin with.”

They shared a sad, knowing smile before Charles drew a shaky breath and continued. 

“And I want you to be free to do what you want, now that you're all grown up.”

Beetlejuice had been on board, leaning casually on the edge of the pendant with a satisfied grin to nod vigorously at Charles. _ Yes. Thanks a million. You picked the right horse in this race, Chuckster _ , he thought with glee.  _ Now shuffle them old bones upstairs so Lyds and I can start planning-- _

“But we aren’t going to have many family summers left...”

_ “What?” _ The tiny image of Beetlejuice snapped his head around, glaring at Charles. “ _ No, zip it! None’a’that!” _

“I know you’re not crazy for the Brewsters… trust me, I’m not either. But if it means I get one more summer with my little girl, hell, I’d move in with ‘em.”

"Oh, god, PLEASE _ **no."**_

They shared a laugh which quickly faded. 

Beetlejuice was absolutely fuming and the locket around Lydia’s neck was growing slowly warmer. The Best Summer Ever Scheme was crumbling right before his eyes. All the obsessing over when and how and where and what kind of flowers and the right words to say, **_dashed._**

_ Scratch the Delia torment plan… YOU’RE gonna get it good for this little guilt trip routine, Chucky… oooohoho boy, just you fuckin’ WAIT-- _

Charles slid a brochure across the counter to Lydia on his way to the door. 

“I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do… but maybe just consider it?” he asked gently. “You might be pleasantly surprised! Goodnight.”

“Night, daddy.”

After a long moment, only after the master bedroom’s door shut far away upstairs, Lydia finally puffed a sigh of relief. Alone, for a moment.

The moment of blissful silence was immediately interrupted by Beetlejuice exploding into being. He floated back and forth in front of her, already talking even before he fully appeared.

“OKAY! So, it’s just a _minor_ hiccup, but don’t you worry, babes. I’ve got a plan. Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

“Beej?”

“Way I see it, we can work this from a few different angles. I wouldn’t _usually_ pull some’a these out, but hey, THEY decided to pull out the guilt trip. So, way I see it, gloves are off.”

He whipped a giant notepad out of the air, controlling the pen with tiny waves of one red-tipped claw.

“We’ll pretend you’re sick, right? Make it REAL convincing... I know these witches in the Neitherworld who could work some non-fatal yet _**EXTREMELY contagious**_ mojo--”

“BJ.”

“Naah, you’re right. Then your folks might cancel the trip and quarantine you. **Scratch that!** ” the page ripped away in a flurry. “OH! What if old ' _Mr. Beetleman'_ shows up and redirects the trip? They might be suspicious at first, but if we know one thing about your folks, it’s that they’re GULLIBLE as can be! Then we ditch 'em some place, have our vacation, an' pick 'em up on the way back?”

“Beetlejuice, I--”

The pages tore one after another after another, each childish sketch of potential ‘schemes’ growing more and more elaborate and ridiculous.

“CLICHE! We’ve done that before, haven’t we? Never retread old material, Lyds. That’s rule number ONE of the art of the scam--”

“Would you PLEASE just--!”

“Okay, just spit ballin’ here. It’s just a round robbin’ so feel free to shoot anything down. I know we’ve had a pretty strict ‘ _no killing_ ’ policy in the past, but in light of recent events I think they’ve kinda brought it on themselves-- ” at this point, Lydia wasn’t even sure the ghoul was still in control of the notepad. It seemed to produce his imaginings on its’ own. The next sets of drawing were flip-style animations of her parents falling victim to crocodiles, falling pianos, a giant squid and a pirate ship--

_**“BEETLEJUICE!”** _

The notepad stopped suddenly as it had run out of pages. Lydia stepped around the counter and over the piles and piles of paper on the floor. She shuffled them around until she found the ghoul buried underneath.

“No need to _shout,_ Lyds.” he sniffed, pointing upstairs. “You wanna wake the ‘rents?”

“I have to go on this trip with my parents.”

There was a long pause and the ghost didn’t budge a muscle. Lydia was growing uncomfortable by the time he blinked a few times and all of his magicked papers vanished with his previous line of thoughts. Beetlejuice squished one finger into his ear to clean it out, flicked something away, and cocked one eyebrow sky-high.

_ “... s'cuse me come again?” _

Lydia steeled herself for the hundredth time that day, shoulders squaring as they might when speaking with a teacher. 

“I know we were making plans, but maybe we could do something over winter break instead? That’s a good compromise, right?”

“ _ Compromise _ ?!” Beetlejuice huffed, arms gesturing wide. “What about your plain on _**promise,** _ huh? You promised we’d spend the summer together! You SHOOK on it!”

Lydia shushed him to no avail as his voice steadily rose. 

“I’m trying to be fair, Beej. It hasn’t been easy for my parents either, you know. They haven’t seen me all semester, either. I don’t know why we can’t just reschedule our trip.”

“Because,  _ Lydia, _ ” his tone was hostile and genuinely surprised Lydia, “I had a plan. _**WE**_ **HAVE** a PLAN!”

Lydia retreated around the counter, pinching the bridge of her nose with a deep, steadying breath. She could feel her tattered edges fraying.

“Plans change, B. I’m sorry, really I am,” despite her best efforts, it only sounded half sincere. “But I have responsibilities now--”

“I know that!”

"-- and my PARENTS are important to me! I won't always have this time with them."

"What the hell do ya mean?! You're all just gonna end up stiffs in the Neitherworld some day." he sniffed callously, ignoring Lydia's angry gawk. "Got all the time in the world."

"All the time in the world for us, but you and I just CAN'T reschedule?"

"Nope." 

" ** _Why not_**! ? "

" 'cause you made ME a PROMISE! A certain somebody taught me those were important or somethin'."

"Being understanding is important, too! **Best friends** understand that things happen. BEST FRIENDS don't act like jerks when they don't get what they want! It's not all about you!"

"I _ **KNOW that!"**_

“You DON’T, though! You DON’T know, because all you _ **know**_ is what YOU want!” Lydia spun to face him. By this point, Beetlejuice had dropped from the air and stood on the opposite side of the counter from her. There was something daunting about his gaze that unsettled Lydia to no end. Anger didn’t feel right, but neither did hurt. The intensity of his gaze set her teeth on edge.

Yet she’d reached the end of her deep well of patience. It was far too late to stop now.

“All you _ever_ think about is what’ll make **you** happy...”

The impossibly still corpse before her twitched in his boots, hands balling at his sides. 

**_“Ain’t true.”_ **

“It IS true.” Lydia corrected, matter of fact. “How will Lydia going away to college _affect Beetlejuice?_ What kind of plan did **_Beetlejuice_ **have? Can’t do ANYTHING that _**doesn’t somehow involve Beetleju--”**_

He moved through the counter so quickly Lydia startled, his frigid hand pressing over her lips to stifle the third. The ghost loomed at least a head taller than her, jaundiced yellow gaze still boring down. The nearness brought an unwanted bloom of pink to her face and Lydia retreated back a step, hugged herself and ducked her head low.The pain that jumped from Beetlejuice’s chest to his throat only served to deepen his scowl. He hadn’t meant to scare her… why the fuck was she _scared of him?_ When had he EVER done anything to hurt her?

“Know what I think?”

This caught her attention, those deep dark pools of her’s cutting right through him. But he had already been cut too deeply to hold it in now.

“I think _you’re_ the bad friend, Lyds.” 

He let that one sit. To his disgust, Lydia didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. So the horrible thing balled up and writhing in his chest lashed out again.

“I’ve done EVERYTHING right. Everything you wanted me to do… I didn't bother you at school. Didn't haunt yer stupid, dumbass yuppy folks. I just sat back and watched you _go away._ When you asked for space, I gave ya space. When you wanted me to be here? Hey,  _ old Beej  _ was **_right here!_** I helped ya study for yer stupid fuckin’ tests and cheered you on while you went away an’ left me behind _ **. What kinda fuckin’ best friend is THAT?!”**_

The sudden shift from mirthless, exasperated laughter to sudden fury sent his fingertips pulsing with magic. He hadn’t meant to, but tiny tendrils of light snapped and crackled in his grasp. That certainly got a reaction out of the stoic girl, her back pressing up against the kitchen wall, but it didn’t feel at all like a victory. 

It only made him feel worse.

“But, _sure thing Babes_ , you go right ahead and tell me. What am I supposed to do? Yer always the one who’s right, right? You’re right an’ i’m just the stupid, selfish old ghost who don’t know nothing about nothing.”

_**“Stop it.”** _Lydia hissed bitterly. Her feet her rooted in place, fingers balled in the fabric of her sleeves to hold herself together.

“Stop WHAT, huh!? Being HONEST?! That'd break one'a your precious little _rules._ Fine! Go ahead! I’m ALL FUCKIN’ EARS! What am I supposed to do?! Just sit back, shut my stupid mouth, let you go? Just _get over it?_ ” He’d drawn closer and closer despite Lydia’s clear discomfort. “Just be OKAY with bein’ left behind and ignored and  _ forgotten _ by the one person I got who means somethin’ ?!”

Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, shrinking in tighter and tighter to get away. 

He stooped to her level, trying to make eye contact. This close to her, even he could tell his voice had risen far too loud for the quiet old house.

At the moment, he didn’t give a damn. His hands wrapped over either of her biceps firmly and Lydia felt she might burst at just the contact.

“What the HELL am I supposed to do!?”

“Why don’t you _**GET A LIFE?!”**_

The hands on her biceps froze before quickly retreating. Lydia slowly became aware through the fog of anxiety that she was shaking. Her fingers dug so painfully into the backs of her arms that she was sure she’d bruise. 

When her eyes finally opened and slid up to the face of her companion, she found that fury from before withered and dried into something equally horrible. A hollow, stricken face that she’d only ever seen him feign in mock insult. But here and now, it was so much different. It was chipping at her heart. She’d been caught up, so lost to the swirling pain and anger and sadness and guilt that Lydia couldn’t even remember, at first, the last thing she’d said to him.

And then it dawned on her and Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth, as though she could stop them from ever having come out. 

“Beej...” she started through her fingers, the angry tears from before finally dripping down her cheek. “I didn’t mean… it was a figure of speech. I would _never_ …”

Her ghostly friend had been stock still, backed as far away as he could, but the minute her tone grew gentle and she began to fumble, the full extent of the damage shone from his face.

“Damn.” he puffed a not-quite laugh, eyes plastered to the floor. “Hey, sure got the hell outta me... but, hey, we both said some stuff, huh? Fair’s fair… I get it.  _ I know _ .”

Every time she’d ever mentioned his state of being, or lack thereof, it had been in jest. Even occasionally in admiration. The ghoul himself cracked wise about his death frequently.

But she’d never weaponized it. Had never  _ ever _ thought to try to hurt him with it.

Yet she had. Everytime she opened her mouth, any explanation or apology faded on her tongue. He was quiet for a long moment before he shakily checked one of his many watches and snorted.

“Boy, would’ja  _ lookit the time _ \--”

“No, Beej--”

“Gettin’ late. I gotta go, Lyds.”

“Beetlejuice, no, don’t go yet. Please. Can we--”

The ghost waved her off with a too-loud laugh. 

“Hey it’s no big deal! I just got some things to do, projects an’… y’know… all my dead guy stuff. So i’ll get outta your hair.”

Lydia gasped to see a tiny version of himself doing so, crawling down from her black locks with a tiny suitcase packed. The little Beetlejuice clambered glumly up his counterpart’s shoulder and vanished into wiry yellow hair. His attempt at being lighthearted only drags more tears to Lydia’s eyes.

“Do me a favor and pop those B-words, huh?”

Lydia started to respond, but the damage was clearly done. Summoning up the wherewithal to speak his name, aware that it could be the last time, all the ghost's best friend could manage was a miserable,

"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice."

With that, Lydia was left alone and wishing she were anything but.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty rude way to leave you guys, I know. My upload schedule will not always be this slow, but this past month has been an absolute whirlwind. Thank you all for being patient with me and I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! Be sure to follow me on Tumblr (Suzthesnooze) for art, story updates, chapter updates, and more!
> 
> Love you guys.

**Author's Note:**

> That's chapter one! I could have gone on editing this into oblivion. Instead, I decided to grow a pair and finally start to post it. I'm so excited to finally be posting my stories for you all to read and I certainly hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. The rating is always subject to change and most likely will by the end. Reviews and Kudos are much appreciated! You can find updates to stories and my artwork at Suzthesnooze.tumblr.com.


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